


All In A Day's Work

by Thefreakoutsideyourwindow



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Touching, all aboard the angst train choo choo, bad boss, brotherhood era, i think, overworked-prompto, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thefreakoutsideyourwindow/pseuds/Thefreakoutsideyourwindow
Summary: When something happens, Prompto simply shrugs it off, as if to say “what can I do?” and carries on working. He promises himself that the moment another big thing like that happens again he'll bring it up to her, or her boss (his boss-boss) or something. The thought brings him comfort and he keeps it close to his chest like home and safety.





	All In A Day's Work

“Hey there, cutie.”

 

The phrase would probably be something that many people would be happy to hear directed at them, flattered even, depending on the circumstances. One might blush, act coy and look away, maybe fiddle with a stray strand of hair and say something nice back at them. But for Prompto, standing at the currently (and sadly) empty cashier point at the camera shop, the sweet lilt only flips his stomach and fills him with a sense of dread.

 

He's only been working there for a little while, four months tops, and so far everything's been great (or rather, as well as things can go now that he can secure his rent and actually eat something other than instant ramen for dinner for a change). The dying light of dusk seeps in through the windows and illuminates the dust hovering in the air, a clock somewhere above him tick-tocks noisily and he realises with a start that he hasn't yet responded to her remark.

 

“H-hey Lizette, how're things going today? Did you have a good weekend?” He responds cordially, thankful that his voice only stammered at the start as he scratches the back of his head in mock embarrassment to cover up his nerves.

 

“Oh you know, the usual, nothing too fun.” She continues on in a drone, Prompto already feeling relieved with the attention off of him before the anxiety comes back full force as she starts toying with the collar of his shirt. Shit. He thought he could go just a little while without anything kicking off. It's nothing forceful or really too unusual, but she's his boss and a fair bit older than him and Prompto just doesn't know what to think anymore.

 

You see, work has been just fine, but Lizette's been kind of funny with him, and he just doesn't know how to react. A stray touch here, an odd comment there, and Prompto feels like he's walking on eggshells at the end of some days, trying to keep his internal screaming to a minimum. But it's not like she's doing anything bad, and he hasn't really said no, so it's not like she knows he's uncomfortable, right?

 

So Prompto remains that way until 10pm, anxiety slowly mounting throughout his shift's duration (and, of course, it just had to be him and Lizette that night, didn't it?). And when he gets home and gets in bed and the lights are off, he thinks back and wonders, over and over, if he keeps overreacting over nothing.

 

* * *

 

“Ifrit's balls, man, you look like shit.”

 

Noctis's remark is barely heard over the clamour of the cafeteria, the clatter of cutlery nigh indistinguishable from the constant murmur of voices. They're currently sat somewhat away from the crowd, sitting on a bench under an outcrop of small exotic looking trees that are gathering so much dust and the dirt looks so dry that Prompto's not sure whether they're fake or just very, very resilient. The warm sunlight streaming from the skylights above helps him relax as he leans back with a sigh, “Just busy shifts, dude. Once I've got the new lens I'll start cutting back on hours, for realsies this time.” He emphasises the statement with the lift of his pinkie finger, which Noctis takes with a slanted smirk and a muttered “I'll hold you to that.” afterwards.

 

Of course, what Noctis doesn't know is that Prompto will not cut his shifts back, _cannot_ cut his shifts back, as the lens he's saving up for doesn't exist, and somehow he doesn't think his parents will materialise with the clicks of their non-existent red shoes from Altissia and suddenly care about his well-being. What Noct doesn't know won't hurt him, though.

 

“Oh! But I almost forgot-,” Prompto says in a flurry of motion, leaning down to his bag to dig out his phone (away from its once normal place in his trouser pocket) to show Noct the techni-coloured dream land that awaits them, “King's Knight update V2.81, be-otch! Whaddya say?”

 

Noct's reaction is immediate, face lighting up with glee, “Dude! How did you get that?! Didn't it come out at like 5am or something?” He grabs Prompto's phone to look at all the additions they've made as he continues to ask questions rapid fire.

 

“Ah well, no sleep for the wicked, or the gamer, as they say now-in-the-days.” Prompto says, slowing down his words to a drawl. Noctis snorts, remarking something about Ignis in comparison to Prompto before he looks up and freezes, face going crestfallen.

 

“What is it?” Prompto asks, looking to Noct in concern as he lets out a slow and drawn out “shiiiiiitt.”

 

“I promised Ignis I'd revise particle physics with him tonight,” and he looks genuinely apologetic as if Prompto's spur of the moment idea was an 8 month planned vacation shot down at the last minute.

 

Prompto just laughs and acts very put upon as he grabs his phone back from Noct who is still looking at the King's Knight app with wistful longing. “No worries Noct, seriously. There's plenty of time to play it later. This way, you'll have to grind to keep up with me.” He adds, laughing as Noctis pulls a stink face at the idea of working to become a higher level in a game.

 

With clockwork precision, the class bell goes off then, signalling an end to lunch. The boys groan and pack their respective lunch boxes away as Noct goes to advanced Lucian history and Prompto makes his way to AP photography and still life art.

 

Just as they're leaving to go to their separate classes, Prompto shouts “Hey, Noct!” causing him to turn back with a raised eyebrow, as if he'd much rather be in class right now (which Prompto knows for a fact he would rather not be), “Good luck with the physics revision, I know Gladio will be disappointed if you let the _weak_ force kick your ass in midterms!” The only response to his terrible pun is a exasperated smile and a well hidden middle finger (Noct has had to get good at flipping off discretely in public).

 

Prompto laughs a bit at his pathetic joke (if even he can admit it's terrible, he knows it's bad) as he starts making his way to class when suddenly his phone buzzes in his pocket, making him jump as he forgot he put it there.

 

Wondering who would be contacting him during school hours, he pulls out his phone and goes to his messages, both surprised and not when he sees it's relating to work.

 

Lizette (Boss): Hey, are you free to come into work this evening? We could really do with an extra set of hands :)

 

He stares in deliberation at the message, absent-mindedly aware of all the people making their way to class and clearing the cafeteria as some bump into him and some stare as he stands in the middle of the way, still. A tug of hair, worrying his lip and a bit of nail biting later he responds,

 

Me: Sure thing! Is 4:30 okay – I've got class late today.

 

And shoves the phone back in his pocket, feeling a buzz not two seconds after he sent his reply and already knowing it is a happy confirmation. And so he sits there with a feeling of dread heavy in his stomach in class, like the calm before the storm, knowing that he will regret coming in to work, but that he will regret it even more not going.

 

Class ends at 3:45, as usual, and Prompto has never been so glad that he's given himself time to psyche himself up before going to work.

 

* * *

 

 

“Really now, Prompto, I know for a fact that you can do better than this.” Ignis's voice cuts through his conscience as he keeps his head bowed in shame and embarrassment, the condescending tone hitting him harder than he expected it to. The lack of any background sounds of Noct and Gladio bickering only allowed the words to echo throughout the room, devoid of the people now at the Gala. He knew that his grades would end up shit for this term, knew it the moment the rent went up and he needed to work longer hours to simply stay on top of the bills. But it doesn't stop the bubbling feel of shame and anxiety and _not good enough Astrals damn it why can't I just be good enough?_ coursing through him.

 

When Prompto doesn't look up for a little while, merely mumbling out an apology and a promise to do better, Ignis simply sighs and lets the topic drop as he moves to the counter where tea is brewing (unlike his usual cup of Ebony). He hands Prompto a cup of tea which Prompto takes gratefully, mostly just holding it between his hands for warmth. They go over areas he needs to study, setting up a revision plan and the like.

 

And even though it's dull and something he'd much rather not be thinking about right now, Prompto will never not be thankful for Ignis's help and input. Though he may only ever admit it to himself in the small hours of the morning, Prompto is almost envious of Ignis's ability to stay on top of everything, to be cool and professional and always in control no matter what disaster or ill-timed appointment appears in his way, whilst Prompto can barely keep it together for a part-time place at a camera shop.

 

After they've spent a few more hours creating a fully decked out revision plan (which only further convinces Prompto that advisers and secretaries secretly rule the world) Prompto heads home, thanking Ignis for the help and the meal. And after he's dusted the furniture, hoovered the house and taken a shower, he looks at himself in the fogged up mirror and thinks of all the mistakes he's made, of all of the times he could have done better. He thinks of them and analyses them until it hurts and there's no further angles to look at them, and he hopes this will help him to become a better person.

 

* * *

 

The next week at work Prompto's on cashier duty again, having helped out organising the storage a little earlier.

 

Lizette comes by and with a little giggle says, “Oh, your underwear is showing!” and goes and pulls his trousers up and shirt down a bit before he has time to react, and then she's out the room.

 

She makes a joke about it later in the day as he's bent over stacking shelves with his co-worker, Maximus. The moment she leaves the room, Maximus levels him with a questioning, confused and more than a little concerned gaze. Prompto simply shrugs it off, as if to say “what can I do?” and carries on working. He promises himself that the moment another big thing like that happens again he'll bring it up to her, or her boss (his boss-boss) or something. The thought brings him comfort and he keeps it close to his chest like home and safety.

 

Nothing happens for a while after that.

 

* * *

 

Gladio picks up on his somewhat sombre mood during their routine (as of May) morning jog, the still cool summer air promising a swelter soon to come later in the day as their shoes strike concrete on the neighbourhood sidewalks.

 

“Alright, who do I need to punch?” Gladio asks in a monotone voice, laughing internally as Prompto splutters at the question, stumbling and nearly tripping over himself before he regains his momentum and catches up to Gladio.

 

“Where the heck did that come from, dude?” Prompto asks, looking at Gladio with confusion clear on his face, as if he hasn't realised the quieter and almost downtrodden air around himself, “Is that a trial pick-up line you're testing or something?”

 

Gladio chortles somewhat at the response (as if his pick up lines are _that_ bad, he hurriedly reassures himself), “You're looking more and more like a kicked chocobo the closer you get to summer break – I figured you liked school but even that much is a little weird.”

 

Prompto gives out a quiet 'aah' at the response, looking up at the vibrant green leaves of the trees providing shade above them, as if contemplating life's mysteries before he turns to Gladio and answers him with a sheepish smile, “Honestly, I'll probably spend a lot of my summer revising 'cause of my crap results, and I'm not really looking forward to it.”

 

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Gladio nods and turns his focus back to jogging, not noticing the relieved look on Prompto's face at the lack of further questions. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Gladio mentions, “I could help with your Lucian Literature, you know.”

 

Prompto simply snorts and looks at him with incredulity, stating as if water is wet and sun is bright, “Bodice rippers are not literature, Gladio.”

 

This elicits a sharp gasp and fake shock expression from Gladio as he fans himself and Prompto laughs. They debate about Gladio's taste in literature for the rest of their jog, the previous conversation all but forgotten.

 

* * *

 

When Prompto is called in for a ten hour shift on his day off (arcade and video games planned for all day, baby) he is upset and disappointed, but not in the least surprised. So he begs off, apologising to Noct by filling his phone with sad faces and promising to stop by at his place and they switch it around to a sleepover as Prompto promises to bring bags full of junk food (beneath some well placed fruit and veg, of course).

 

But work, horribly and predictably, seems to have other plans. He's given a simple enough task by Lizette to complete, only to find out that she messed up the order completely and the customer shouts at him on the phone for fifteen minutes, _very_ disappointed in the quality of work their company is producing. And then because he took the call he's called in by his boss-boss with Lizette and they talk about resolving issues, of clarifying any problems so that they can work together properly without causing hassle for each other. And when he is asked by his boss-boss if there's anything that he'd like to say or mention, he glances at Lizette out of the corner of his eye and says “No, thank you.” before thanking them for their time and leaving the room.

 

He leaves work with red rimmed eyes and a bone deep exhaustion and sends an apology text to Noct before going straight to bed and resolutely trying not to think anything about work whatsoever.

 

* * *

 

When school actually breaks up for the summer, Prompto is not looking as forward to it as he should be, or so says Noctis. “It's the perfect time for all night gaming and all day napping, come on!”

 

They're both walking aimlessly around the city centre since school ended early during lunch, sipping on slushies as they search out a shaded area to wilt from the heat. Prompto shrugs and takes a large gulp of his blue raspberry slushie (a bit too big if temporary brain freeze has anything to say about it) and responds, “ I know but dude, September's already so close and I can feel all of the knowledge leaking out of my brain – pretty sure half of it walked away during ancient Lucian language.”

 

Noct snorts at that and thumps him in the shoulder gently, “Man, specs has been getting on your case way too hard, you're even starting to sound like him! Before you know it you'll be reading dictionaries for fun and chugging ebony by the gallon.”

 

Prompto makes a face at the mention of ebony (though if Ignis ever asks Noctis of this conversation, he'll swear up and down that it's just permanent brain freeze damage), “You won't ever see me drinking that sludge – yeugh!”

 

They then both freeze and look around themselves, just to make sure that, even if by the slimmest margin, Ignis didn't hear them, and then burst out laughing. Soon enough, they find a spot near the fountain (it has no shade coverage but they take their shoes off and stick their feet in the water, feeling infinitely better for it) that helps Prompto get some superb shots before he tries to surprise dunk Noctis and ends up getting them both soaked instead.

 

All the while, Prompto's phone has been steadily blowing up with text messages in his bag, and he fails to look at it for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

When he finally goes to check on his phone the next day he has 18 messages from Lizette and one from his mother. Surprised by the latter, he goes to open it and reads a simple 'Have a good summer break xo'. No dates from when they'll next be back, no missed calls, nothing new. Still, Prompto types out a quick thank you to his mom before going to read the messages his boss sent him.

 

Lizette (Boss): Hey Prompto can you come in today? 13:48

 

Lizette (Boss): We're kind of short on staff at the minute 13: 49

 

Lizette (Boss): Are you there? 13:56

 

Lizette (Boss): Prompto please answer your phone 14:08

 

Lizette (Boss): Hello? 14:30

 

Lizette (Boss): Don't ignore me 14:32

 

Lizette (Boss): I know school's broken up for the summer now, I know you're free 14:41

 

Lizette (Boss): Hey 14:50

 

Lizette (Boss): Hey 15:39

 

Lizette (Boss): Hey 16:05

 

Lizette (Boss): Hey 16:18

 

Lizette (Boss): Hey 16:45

 

Lizette (Boss): Prompto please text me back 17:02

 

Lizette (Boss): HellooOo? 17:14

 

Lizette (Boss): . 17:43

 

Lizette (Boss): . 17:59

 

Lizette (Boss): . 18:09

 

Lizette (Boss): Do you want this job or not? I can find someone else just like you, you know. 18:30

 

It's the last text that sets the blood in his veins to ice, because as much as he hates his job (though if he's being honest, he hates Lizette more) he _needs_ it if he's hoping to make it through the summer, let alone the rest of his senior years.

 

Ultimately it's that thought that makes him gather up what little courage he has left to type out a response:

 

Me: So so sorry about the delay! I was out yesterday – do you want me to come in this morning for the rest of the day?? (OTL).

 

After sending the text and receiving confirmation that yes, she does want him there still, and yes, he better get his ass down there _asap_ , Prompto hurriedly puts on his uniform and locks the door behind him, breaking into a steady jog. At the end of the day, he doesn't know if he feels more disgusted by Lizette's behaviour or by himself.

 

* * *

 

One week passes by. And then two. Prompto's not sure how much more he can take.

 

Maximus quit a week ago, no doubt pushed away by Lizette's behaviour. When he left, when she was out of the room, he looked to Prompto and put a hand on his shoulder, uttering a quiet “Look out for yourself, she's vicious.” before he left. The day after, Lizette jokingly mentioned to Prompto about all of the cute ones running away, and that “You're good, though, I'm sure you'll stay.” was tacked on at the end as she smiled at him sweetly. Prompto could only pretend to smile back.

 

Some days of summer he spent with Noct, helping to make the break all the more bearable. And when a comfortable silence fell between them, whether they were dozing or waiting for the next stage of the game to load up, Prompto considered mentioning it to him, at least out of context. But then each time his tongue got ahold of itself, and he never spoke a word of it except back to himself at night time.

 

* * *

 

Some days Noct's so busy that he doesn't notice, but on most he sees how Prompto's slowly dwindling, the bright energy and smiles and laughter that he once had dimming. Ignis notices him spending less time around Noctis and, when he stops to eat, spends more time picking at his food and reading through revision books than enjoying himself. Gladio notices he turns up less and less for their morning jogging sessions, and when he does turn up he seems distracted.

 

All of them notice, but none of them know how to reach out.

 

So they don't.

 

* * *

 

One day as he's lifting a box of parts to put in the back room, Lizette comes behind him and gives him a slight swat on the ass, “No lounging around, now!” she laughs, and moves to collect the other box and walks through to the storage room, ignorant to his fingers curling around and crushing the cardboard, to his face quickly reddening in embarrassment, shame and shock.

 

 _Just one more big thing_ , Prompto thinks to himself, _just **one more big thing** , and then I'll report her._

 

But as the days pass on, he loses track of what happened when, and there's no way he could ask Lizette to clarify what she's done to him. So Prompto simply works, and suffers silently.

 

* * *

 

One night, on a night when the days are getting shorter and it's getting nearer to autumn and he needs all of the money he can get for when school starts again in September, Prompto has enough.

 

It starts out innocently enough, another task Lizette asks him to do with insufficient information and conflicting instructions, after he calls her up about the order and she tells him, plainly “I don't care”, after he calls up the customers and everything goes to shit, after he gets called into another meeting with his boss and his boss-boss and “We just want to make sure we all understand what's going on here, you're doing such a good job, really, and is there anything you'd like to say or mention?” Lizette smiles and Prompto fakes it well enough to make it and they both thank the boss-boss for his time. They both leave the room. Lizette remains smiling, Prompto does not.

 

He takes his notepad of scribbled notes and places it on the desk near the phone. He looks up at the clock and winces, noting absent mindedly that it's 11:42pm, but he supposes that's what you get with a late stay shop. He knows Noct and the guys are having a movie night tonight and that he's already said he can't come, but before he knows it he's taking off his name pin of 'My name is: Prompto! :) How may I help you?' and placing it on the desk and he simply walks out of the store, willingly oblivious to Lizette's questions and then shouts of anger.

 

He walks and walks and walks in the darkness of the night and feels a mighty burden lift whilst the rope around his neck gets tighter.

 

Prompto hasn't realised he's been crying the whole time.

 

* * *

 

There's a knock at the door.

 

Noctis, Ignis and Gladio all look at each other with varying degrees of suspicion (especially considering it's gone midnight). Before anyone can volunteer, Gladio is already standing up to open the door, and Noctis is pausing _The Green Mile_ in the middle of the mouse chase scene.

 

There's the sound of Gladio's gruff, “Who is it?” an incoherent mumble and then the sound of the door opening, followed by a quiet and oddly soft, “Prompto?”

 

Noct's head snaps around to look at the door and he's shocked by what he sees. Prompto's a mess, half way through between hiccuping and crying quietly. He's still in his work uniform, the red and blue striped polo shirt now a far-too regular choice of attire from him, but it's now rumpled and dishevelled. There are visible bags under his eyes and his hair is wild and untamed, like he's pulled his hands through ten too many times.

 

Before Noct can even fully react, Ignis is up and guiding him towards the sofa, gently pushing him into the cushions as he goes to prepare hot drinks. “Gladio, would you mind getting out a blanket for Prompto? And perhaps some tissues?” he asks, walking to the kitchen and not looking away from the kettle before it's set to boil. Gladio's quiet “You got it.” is all the answer he needs before a blanket is draped around Prompto and a box of tissues is placed in front of him. Noct quickly shuffles along the couch so he can embrace Prompto from the side, Gladio sitting down on Prompto's other side as Ignis comes back from the kitchen and goes to kneel in front of Prompto.

 

He's still crying now but seems to have calmed down somewhat, Gladio rubbing his back back and forth slowly, helping to even out his shaky breathing. Ignis places a hand gently upon his knee before quietly asking, “Prompto, do you want to tell us what happened?”

 

Prompto nods and tries to speak but only a strangled sound comes out and he's crying again before he knows it, trying to stop but failing. Noctis quickly shoots off and grabs a glass of water before returning to Prompto's side, Prompto gratefully taking the drink and chugging some of it down quickly so as to regain his composure.

 

He spends a few minutes simply breathing before he begins, “It's kind of dumb, really-”

 

“Prom don't say that-”

 

“-of course it's not-”

 

“Now what the hell makes you think-”

 

They all overlap each other and have the grace to appear slightly embarrassed as Prompto glares at them a bit in turn. He waits a moment again before continuing,

 

“Now this is kinda dumb, but before you butt in again, hear me out.” His confidence flees him for a moment and he glances back down at his legs, fists curling up in his trousers before he speaks with a trembling voice, “Work hasn't really been so...great, as of late. There's this one person and they seem fine most of the time, and they work _fine_ , but sometimes they're inappropriate and – ugh I'm being stupid I'm sorry-” he chokes off yet again, going to grab another tissue as he dabs at his eyes quickly welling up with tears.

 

“Prom, you're not being dumb, we just want to help.” Noct says, gripping his friend's arm gently as Gladio hums an agreement.

 

Ignis, however, seems to pick up on another point, “Inappropriate how?” He asks, not unkindly.

 

Prompto seems to freeze in that moment, like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar, but he freezes up in more of a sense of blind panic and shame all bundled into one. Ignis's gaze lays on him heavily and he has to force himself to look away, to look at the fuzzy rug beneath his feet and huh he forgot to take his shoes off, that's bad – and he forces himself to pretend he's just rambling to himself at home, alone.

 

“Some days it's just comments, like on my looks or things she wants to do to other employees. It's gross but doesn't really...hurt anyone, I guess? She works fine most of the time but other times she pins her mistakes on me and I keep getting called in about it and it makes me feel sick, makes me not want to work with her, and when my boss-boss asks 'Well, is there anything you want to say, Mr. Argentum?' I just think of fucking course not, not with _her_ in the room, not with what she's done...”

 

It all comes out like a floodgate once he starts speaking and the tears make an appearance again but it's quieter this time, a steady stream that trickles down like he hardly notices it, like he's used to crying quietly, and somehow it's worse.

 

The confession hangs heavy in the air for a bit before Noctis speaks up, “That's not all she's done, is it?”

 

Prompto looks shocked by the rhetorical question, but then quickly looks away and doesn't deny it.

 

Gladio sighs as he continues to rub Prompto's back, “Look, if you want us to help, we need to know-”

 

“She's touched me, okay?” Prompto says dejectedly, cutting him off, “She's touched me and it's just been a 'cheeky' adjustment of clothing here or a 'playful slap' there and I just feel uncomfortable but it's not like she's _groping_ me, it's not like anyone else saw it-”

 

“That doesn't matter.” Noctis says sharply with venom in his voice, eyes glassy as his jaw works in anger and he looks at Prompto, “It doesn't fucking matter how she did it, or where, or who was there, _she still did it_.”

 

And Prompto, against all feelings of anger he's built up against her, against all of the sadness and resentment, argues, “But it's not like I said no at any point, I didn't like it but I didn't explicitly say no.”

 

He pants for breath slightly after making that point, feeling their disappointed and disgusted gazes on him, he's sure of it, what kind of sick person would essentially sell themselves for their work?

 

“She still shouldn't have done it.” Noctis replies, full of conviction. And when Prompto turns to look at him, his face is not of contempt or disgust, but rather that of concern and anger on his behalf, and he finds the same mirrored on Ignis's and Gladio's faces.

 

“It's gross misconduct.” Ignis states tersely, fiddling with his glasses briefly, as if lost with what to do.

 

“She could be fired for that.” Gladio says, barely contained fury in his voice as he places his hand heavy against Prompto's back, assuring that he's there.

 

“Should be.” Ignis retorts.

 

They fall quiet once more, and the silence of the apartment is broken by the shrill whistle of the kettle. “Ah, that'd be the tea. I'll just be a moment.” Ignis excuses himself as he goes to the kitchen. Moments later he returns with four steaming cups of tea, passing them around as Prompto puts his glass down and takes the tea gratefully, chamomile by its scent.

 

Prompto sighs and takes a sip of the tea, all of the fight and energy gone out of him after all that has happened. He then laughs wetly, “I've fucked it up anyway, I still have to work there.”

 

“Says who?” Noctis asks, full of defiance but with a note of curiosity.

 

“Surely your parents won't force you to stay there considering what you've gone through?” Ignis adds, voice filled with concern.

 

This drives another laugh out of Prompto, though it's not a happy laugh, “You're right, they're not forcing me to be there at all.”

 

“Then why...” Gladio starts but then trails off, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together. The mailbox filled with unopened letters, the decline in his grades, the decease in time spent with Noct playing games or just goofing around in general. Judging by the looks of Noctis and Ignis, they both seem to be figuring it out at the same time. Prompto has gone back to staring at the ground, as if resigned to his fate.

 

It's Noctis, ultimately, that chooses to bite the bullet, asking, “Prom...when were your parents last home?”

 

Prompto, resigned to being caught out in his little white lie to protect his parents, or perhaps just tired of running away, simply says, “March 28th.”

 

“That's five months ago, Prompto.” Gladio says, his voice a quiet rumble. Prompto nods, not arguing.

 

“And I presume since rent prices went up by 3%, what they're sending is no longer enough?” Ignis asks, face drawn tight as it dawns on everyone the seriousness of the situation. Again, Prompto nods, and simply looks into his cooling cup of tea.

 

Noctis, quiet for the rest of the exchange, perks up, “Prom, why didn't you say anything? You know we would've helped you if you just asked.” He looks at Prompto, hurt evident on his face but clearly blaming himself for not realising it sooner.

 

A self-depreciating smile, “I didn't want to be a pleb stealing money from you, dude. There...there are others worse off, and if I can work and make it, then I should. That's what I thought anyway, but now...now I don't really know.”

 

Ignis, suave as ever, steers the topic into more comfortable waters, “We can see about getting you a bursary for school, talking to your parents and seeing if welfare aid is required. I'll see to the report for your, ah, colleague, and get external HR help if need be. Anything else and I'm sure Noctis, Gladio and myself would be happy to help you.”

 

For a moment, Prompto looks like he wants to argue, wants to fight against his parents being contacted, wants to proclaim that he can still manage. But the day has caught up to him, and he simply whispers with a tearful smile, “Thank you. Thank you all so much, I don't know what I'd do without you.”

 

Noctis simply pulls Prompto tighter into a hug, brushing his hands through his hair briefly, “We'll always be here for you, Prom.”

 

Everyone stays like that for a little while, emotionally exhausted yet certain a resolution for the situation has been obtained. Then Ignis glances briefly at his wrist watch, noting the time having passed 1am, and states, “Gladio, don't you have recruit training at 6am tomorrow? Or, ah, should I say today?”

 

Gladio freezes, lets out a quiet “shit” which makes both Noctis and Prompto laugh. “If I knew you were going to pick a long ass film, I wouldn't have come.” Gladio says to Noct, picking up a cushion and tossing it at his head harmlessly before stretching out onto the couch.

 

Ignis, ever the dutiful one, heaves a world weary sigh, “I suppose it's best to start heading off to bed now. Ah, Prompto, don't protest – Noct has a spare bedroom here, and there's no way I'm going to let you walk home at this hour.”

 

Prompto simply nods, all of the fight gone out of him as he lets Noctis lead him to his bedroom, pulling out spare pyjamas from the drawers for him to change into. As he's changing and Noctis has his back turned, Noctis whispers, “Psst – my bed's bigger anyway, wanna share?”

 

A smile much closer to that of Prompto's usual ones and he nods, both Noctis and Prompto slipping in to his bedroom together.

 

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose and then sighs, “Well, no harm done really. Gladio, I suppose you'd like the spare bed.” Silence. “Gladio?”

 

The adviser looks down to see the shield on the couch, spread out as he had done earlier, and apparently dead to the world and fast asleep, neck bent at an awkward angle. Picking up the blanket left by Prompto, Ignis places it over Gladio, muttering, “I hope you enjoy your sore neck in the morning.” He then picks up the discarded mugs and glass and leaves them in the sink to be cleaned in the morning, somewhat smug that he actually managed to steal the spare bed for once.

 

And as Prompto went to sleep that night curled up against the warmth of his best friend, he didn't think of work, or of all the mistakes that he made, or of Lizette, or anything, really. He placed his head upon the pillow, closed his eyes and finally, truly, rested.

 

**Author's Note:**

> HEYOO HOPED YOU LIKED. I started typing at like 10 or 11pm and now it's well on its way to 4am WHAT IS THIS MONSTROSITY.


End file.
